


Guardian Demon

by krissybl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Dean Winchester, Fallen Castiel, Fluff and Angst, Human Castiel, Kid Fic, Loss of Grace, M/M, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-10 00:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2004723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krissybl/pseuds/krissybl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere in Lebanon, Kansas, newly opened black eyes stare into the sky and follow a blinding light through the atmosphere. They track its progress as it illuminates the night and lands somewhere to the southwest. </p><p>A new tree grows in the dessert outside of Phoenix, Arizona. For all that it is a miracle in the dry terrain, it is oddly twisted. People will agree that it is strangely beautiful in its distortion. </p><p>In the maternity ward at St. Joseph’s Hospital and Medical Center a cry rings out and an unearthly pair of blue eyes open to the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Falling

Metatron loved stories, but in the end he wouldn’t live long enough to hear the most interesting one of all. On his very first night imprisoned his own story ends on the point of an angel blade. Castiel rushes in at the scream and flash of light to see the angel Flagstaff standing over the charred shadow of enormous wings and the empty vessel of the scribe. Other angels crowd in behind him and begin asking questions, some crying a few cheering. They clamor for his attention, wanting direction, needing orders. He stares into Flagstaff’s eyes as she holds the dripping blade. There is no remorse. 

Castiel’s head bows and his shoulders slump. He is exhausted. His Grace is nearly spent. He has days left if he is lucky, but it’s more likely hours before his stolen Grace burns him from the inside out. His brothers and sisters need a leader, and even if he wasn’t dying, it wouldn’t be him. He has nothing left to give to them. Castiel is as much an empty vessel as Metatron or Gadreel or his countless brothers and sisters who have been destroyed in the recent wars.

Dean is gone. He knows it for certain. When Castiel allowed himself a private moment he reached out with his senses into the world below and felt a gaping, ragged hole where Dean’s soul had once been. Now, standing amidst his panicking siblings, Castiel can’t hear anything but the sound of cold wind howling through the nothingness where the hunter had once been. Castiel makes a decision in that moment. A very selfish choice. He should help the angels plan their future. He should assist them in reopening Heaven. He should, at the very least, go to Sam and offer comfort. Castiel does none of these things. Instead he pushes through the others, offers no explanations and walks until he can no longer feel their presence pressing in on him. 

When he is finally alone, Castiel realizes that he is standing outside the ruined cell that held Gadreel. After all of his poor choices, the disgraced angel was still braver than Castiel can make himself be in this moment. He takes a deep breath. There is still the smell of smoke and shattered stone in the air. His skin feels gritty with it, his mouth caked with it. He coughs as his stolen Grace flares, burning hotter in his chest. It is a fever reaching a boiling point. He’s not even sure if what he has planned will work. It isn’t his Grace after all. 

Taking a deep breath of the acrid air, he reaches into himself and takes hold of the injured, burning thing. The pain beyond what he could have imagined. It is worse than he remembers dying to be. His hand clenches around the ball of light. He would be unable to release it now if he tried. The angel’s arm is atrophied by the pain. Fire racing through every vein, through the soles of his feet, up into his head and racing along every feather of his invisible wings. The air around him churns as his wings beat, fighting the wrongness of what he is attempting. Even incorporeal as they are, these extensions of his angelic self combat his actions so strongly that the room shakes, stones shift and cracks form in the walls. He knows he must hurry or someone will hear. They will try to stop him. 

Aching fingers tense. His teeth clench so tightly that he can feel them begin to crack. The fire burns hotter through him, worse even than the fires of Hell, scorching out almost everything but the pain of it. In his addled mind he sees glimpes of green irises, black leather, blood red and bright smiles. It is the last image that helps him find the strength for a final pull. As the struggling light finally wrenches free, Castiel’s last sensations are falling, falling, darkness and finally, blessed nothingness.

Somewhere in Lebanon, Kansas, newly opened black eyes stare into the sky and follow a blinding light through the atmosphere. They track its progress as it illuminates the night and lands somewhere to the southwest. Bright white teeth flash a smile, there is a cloud of smoke and then all that is left of the lone figure is a small pile of acrid, yellow dust. 

A new tree grows in the dessert outside of Phoenix, Arizona. For all that it is a miracle in the dry terrain, it is oddly twisted. People will agree that it is strangely beautiful in its distortion.  
In the maternity ward at St. Joseph’s Hospital and Medical Center a cry rings out and an unearthly pair of blue eyes open to the world.


	2. Archer

Archer was a quiet child. He did not suffer for it. While he spent a lot of time by himself, he took in everything in the world around him. His parents often found him investigating some interesting plant, nursing a wounded animal or watching the children in the neighborhood as they played. He smiled at them, but never tried to join them. Archer’s intense blue eyes sparkled as he absorbed all that the world had to offer. For a time his parents were concerned. They asked him if he wasn’t lonely. Wouldn’t rather play with the other children, instead of just watching? Archer just smiled and told that he never felt alone. He was happy to watch.

And it’s true. For all of his solitude, Archer was never lonely. Since his very first moments he felt a presence always nearby. He knew not to mention it to his parents, even from a very young age. It was his special secret, and it brought him peace. Everywhere he went he could feel it, and even sometimes saw a shadow out of the corner of his eyes. A wisp of smoke or a lingering pungent smell. There is a darkness to it. Even on the brightest summer days in the desert, Archer always felt a sense of the night, but he was never frightened by it. It made him feel safe. Like reading under the blankets or playing hide and seek in a dark closet. For all that his parents sometimes worried, they were at least grateful that Archer has never been afraid of the dark. They have never had to check for monsters under his bed or soothe him after a nightmare.

The kind, blue-eyed boy had a wonderful childhood. His parents loved him and his life was never touched by fear or tragedy. There are some inexplicable patterns throughout the years that he chose not to examine too closely. For all that Archer loved nature, he never seemed to be able to keep a plant alive. It always seemed that within days, no matter how meticulously he cared for them, they would whither and die. Wherever he went he found weird streaks of a yellow powder. It smelled like that time his mom forgot to clean the fridge before vacation and the eggs spoiled. Sometimes, when he was outside playing, birds would take to flight and screech at shadows. There were other things, too. Things that a young boy like Archer wouldn’t really notice. The cattle ranch in the next town went out of business shortly after he was born, even though they had been running for nearly a hundred years. There were more storms in Phoenix then anyone alive can remember. 

Archer remembered the stories from when he was born. It had been a clear night and just outside of town a brilliant comet lit up the sky. Mere moments after the light faded a storm blew in that knocked the power out to half the city. Weathermen and astrologists were baffled. The next day the botany students from the college started studying an odd tree that was suddenly growing in the desert. Archer remembers visiting it with his dad once. It was beautiful, but for some reason it made him sad. As they climbed back into the car he rubbed at a spot in his chest that felt strange and empty. But, by the time they got home he could sense the calming darkness again, and he felt better.

When Archer was four he chased a lizard into the street. The driver was leaned over trying to reach for his cell phone and never saw Archer. The report that the man gave the police said that the wheel suddenly jerked out of his hand and he slammed into the neighbors fence. Archer had looked up at the noise and just barely glimpsed a tall shadow on the other side of the car. There was a puff of smoke and it was gone. When he was seven he was waiting outside of his school for his dad to come pick him up. There was a man in a black truck across the street. Inexplicably, the man started screaming and fell out of the truck clutching his chest. He never got back up. Archer didn’t know who the man was, but when his mom talked to the police later they used words he didn’t really understand. He had no idea what it meant that the man had a warrant or why they called him a predator. When they were gone his mom hugged Archer tighter than she ever had before. At ten he was walking with his dad when a piece of scaffolding fell from a tall building under construction. He heard shouting and looked up to see a heavy board hurtling towards him. About halfway down it burst into flames and was nothing but ash by the time it reached the ground. 

High school was a little harder on Archer. Some of the other kids thought it was weird that he was so quiet. They made fun of his skinny limbs and messy dark hair. In his freshman year, one of the football players stole his books. He found them in his locker the next day with streaks of yellow and singed edges. The football player transferred schools. Never said why, just begged his mom to enroll him somewhere else. It was in chemistry class a few weeks later that Archer was finally able to identify the yellow substance as sulphur. In his junior year he went to the school library to take out a book for a project but the librarian told him it has already been checked out. During his next class a girl walked up to him with a blank look in her eyes and dropped the book on his desk. She said in a flat tone “I’m done with this.” and just walked away. 

Archer didn’t date like other kids his age. Just as when he was small, he never felt lonely for the absence of his peers. So, having nobody to go with, he skipped his senior prom. He spent that night looking out his bedroom window at the stars. Out of nowhere an electrical storm moved in. The flashes of lightning came so quickly that it was like a light show. The house shook with it, but it was beautiful. The sky was bright above the constant flares with roiling clouds lit from the inside in flashes of green, red, purple and white. He ran outside in the warm rain, laughing as it pelted his upturned face and flattened his messy black hair. His yard looked like it was under a strobe light as the storm carried on. During one flash he could swear he saw a dark man with a bright, white smile. But, by the time the yard was lit again he was gone. Archer smiled at the spot where the form had been. It was not the first time he had seen the man. Archer had realized several years before that this mysterious figure that he always just barely glimpsed was the same dark presence that had followed him his whole life. Observant as he was, he had pieced together all the inexplicable things that had happened over the years, and the fact that he had always seen shadows just out of the corner of his eye.

Archer knew that he didn’t have a guardian angel. Whoever this stranger was, he certainly wasn’t Heavenly. Angels didn’t give pedophiles heart attacks, scare dumb jocks or leave traces of sulphur. At eighteen, and about to graduate high school, Archer had grown into an intelligent young man. His clear blue eyes had become much better at tracking fleeting shadows. He started putting together the clues with some research online and found some pretty fascinating information. The day he finally figured out what it was that had been following him, he thought briefly that he should be scared. They were supposed to be dangerous, evil. But, Archer had never felt anything but peace and protection from his dark friend. So, it wasn’t fear he felt when he laid down in bed that night and saw a silhouette outside his window. Archer felt special. Honestly, how many people could say that they had a guardian demon?


	3. I Know You

In September Archer started classes at Arizona State University in Tempe. He was taking chemistry. The subject had always fascinated him. It felt a little like mixing parts of a potion or a spell. Something about it made him feel nostalgic, though he was never really sure why. He was fascinated by molecules and their different reactions. And of course, ever since he had discovered that he had been followed by sulphur his entire life, he figured chemistry just made sense. He enjoyed his studies immensely. He even enjoyed his part time job at the campus bookstore. But, a restlessness had started to settle over Archer. He still didn’t have any close friends, and while that never really bothered him, he was finding more and more that there was someone in particular that he would really like to talk to.

Now that Archer knew what was following him, he was better than ever at seeing the signs. He started keeping track of them and trying to find some opportunity to confront his guardian. His chance finally came as he walked across campus, umbrella protecting him from the sudden storm. The alleyway he was passing was briefly lit by lightning and he saw the familiar figure.

“Hey!” He called out. The figure started to blur around the edges. “No! Please don’t disappear!” The man became completely solid again and his shoulders seemed to tense, but he didn’t move. “I know what you are.” Archer said as he slowly moved to the mouth of the alley. “I’m not frightened. I just want to meet you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about kid.” The deep voice was so familiar that it was like a punch in the gut, though he was sure he had never heard it before. Archer’s hand dropped and the umbrella fell out of his grip. He was soaked within seconds, but he didn’t even notice. 

“I do.” He finally managed to get out through his tight throat. “You’ve been following me my whole life. Looking out for me. Like a guardian.” He dropped his bookbag with his umbrella and took another step forward, slowly like he was trying not to spook the man. Which was a little ridiculous, considering what he was.

“I’m no angel.” The man’s laugh was deep and warm, with a smoky tinge. Archer still couldn’t see his face where it was covered in shadow and blurred by the rain. But he desperately wanted to, so he moved closer still. 

“I know.” Archer grinned. “You’re a demon.” The man backed up a step and Archer’s smile faltered. “Please don’t leave me.” He begged. He could finally just make out the man’s face, everything but his eyes. He looked like he was fighting with himself, features shifting between harsh and gentle. Angry, regretful and caring. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, Archer.” Archer smiled again at the warmth that flowed through him when he heard that voice. Particularly, when it spoke his name. He knew he had never heard it before in his life. But, somehow, it was as familiar as his own, as beloved as his mother’s and comforting as his father’s. 

“I just want to meet you. You’ve been with me for so long that I feel like we’ve always been friends, but I’ve never gotten to hear your voice. You even know my name. You probably know everything about me. But, I don’t know anything about you” Archer was almost within arms length of him now. “Can you at least tell me your name?” The demon was silent for several long moments, the only sound in the alley was the continually falling rain. He was obviously deliberating with himself. Trying to decide if he should give in or bolt. Archer held his breath.

“It’s Dean.” And as he said it he moved forward half a step. His face was suddenly in the pool of light from the streetlamp and Archer gasped at his pitch black eyes. But, as he watched the black faded away into the most gorgeous green he had ever seen. 

“Dean.” He breathed out the name like a prayer and stared into the deep green irises. The jolt of recognition was almost painful, but it was all still just out of reach. He knew this man. Knew every line and angle of his face as if they had been close for years. He just couldn’t figure out how. “I know you.” Dean chuckled darkly.

“Well, like you said. I’ve been around.” Dean continued to smile, but it turned a little melancholy as he continued to look at Archer. It seemed that he was staring just as intently into blue eyes, as Archer was into green.

“No. It’s more than that.” Archer insisted. “I know it is.” He reached his hand out to touch the familiar features. Dean tensed again and his smile fell away, but he stayed very still. When Archer’s fingers connected with the damp stubble on the other man’s face his mind exploded into chaos. There were colors and faces and sounds that made no sense but were excruciatingly clear all at the same time. He flashed through pain, confusion, blood, laughter, motel rooms, fighting, cheeseburgers, friendship, brothers, a black car, love and pain. The pain at the end nearly dropped him to the ground. He felt loss, and grief and fire. He was on fire. He moaned and buckled. He would have hit the pavement if strong arms hadn’t reached out to hold him up. 

“Archer!” His name was shouted with panic. But, it wasn’t right. That name coming from those lips. And as the pain subsided everything suddenly clicked into place. He straightened up but didn’t move away from the hands still holding onto him. Archer’s eyes shone with fierce and triumphant joy.


	4. I Remember

“Dean Winchester.” The dark haired man stated and the demon took a startled breath. “You were supposed to be dead.” Dean smiled a little sadly back.

“Well, you know me. They knock me down and I just keep getting back up.” His smile grew a little more confident. 

“I remember.” The shorter man said.

“Cas, are you really in there?” The look on his face was so hopeful it was almost painful to see. As they looked at each other the rain started to taper off. Castiel smiled at the friend he thought was lost forever.

“It’s me, Dean. I remember everything. I thought you were dead. I couldn’t take it. My Grace was burning out. I was dying anyway. I chose to fall, like Anna. How did you find me?” It all came out as a rush. With his memories restored he felt like he needed to explain and learn everything all at once. Dean smiled and tapped his own temple.

“Special new spidey senses.” He chuckled, feeling as if a weight of years had lifted from what passed for his soul these days. “I woke up in the bunker with Crowley spouting some nonsense about a moon and I kicked him out. I told Sam I had to go. Figure out what I was.”

“Oh, Sam! How is he?” Castiel interrupted.

“He’s good. He doesn’t hunt anymore, but he helps out. Kind of like Bobby used to. Has a wife and a couple of kids. They still live at the bunker. Because, hey, free house.” Dean was outright grinning now. Castiel could see the love he had for his brother in the sparkling green eyes. “Enough about my dorky little brother. Do you want me to finish my story?” 

“Of course.” Castiel reached out so that his hands were on Dean’s hips, clutching the damp denim. The taller man’s hands still rested on his upper arms from where he had caught him from falling. Castiel felt a need to be closer and to hold onto the miracle in front of him. He felt that if he didn’t Dean would just disappear. Dean stiffened for a few moments at the unfamiliar touch, But, after a few moments he continued.

“As I was saying. I told Crowley to get lost. I might be a demon but I knew I wasn’t going to work with that asshole.” Dean grinned his same old grin. “I guess the Mark of Cain converted me. But something was different from a demon born in the pit. Yeah sure, I did my time, but it wasn’t fresh. Without that I guess I was still mostly me. Everything is sharper. I get angry easier but I learned to control it. I still remembered why I had been fighting in the first place and it helped me stay me. Just a bit more indestructible.” 

“I see that. You haven’t aged a day in eighteen years.” Castiel reached up to run his fingers over Dean’s still youthful face. The demon leaned ever so slightly into the touch. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“I was getting to that part. Geesh. You never let me tell stories right.” Dean smiled again. “Well, after Crowley left and Sam stopped trying to stick me in a Devil’s trap, I went outside. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, but I had to figure it out. I was scared to be too close to Sam in case I did snap. And while I was standing around planning my next move I saw your Grace falling. Don’t know how I knew it was yours, I just felt it.”

“It wasn’t really mine. It was Theo’s.” Castiel looked at the ground. Dean put a hand on the smaller man’s chin and tilted his face back up to look him in the eyes.

“You did what you had to, Cas. We all did.” He left his hand on the smaller man’s face, absently running his thumb over the smooth skin. “It was as much yours by that point as it had been his, even if it was burning out. I knew it was you, so I followed. Fancy new smoke travel meant I kept up with it. Once I saw it land I figured you would show up in one of the hospitals nearby.”

“But there are so many babies born everyday. I still don’t understand how you found me.” Castiel was leaning into Dean’s hand, reveling in the contact.

“I know you, Cas.” He smiled. “Finding you was easy. Staying close was hard. I still didn’t trust myself, but the more time passed the more I was sure I wouldn’t hurt you.” The demon’s eyes flickered black for a moment before returning to their familiar green. “I never wanted to hurt you, Cas.”

“You looked out for me, just like always.” Castiel stepped a little closer into Dean’s space, causing Dean’s arm to wrap around his shoulders. 

“Yeah, well. Eternity and no job, I needed a hobby.” Dean tightened his grip as he sighed. “You have no idea how good it is to see you.”

“You’ve gotten to see me this whole time. I haven’t seen you in eighteen years.” Castiel pointed out.

“Yeah, but you didn’t remember me.” Dean countered.

“And I don’t actually look like me.” Castiel reminded Dean.

“Well,” Dean stepped back and held Castiel at arms length so he could examine him. Castiel immediately missed the demon’s warmth. They were both still soaked from the rain. “You’re a little shorter. Your nose is a bit smaller. And Jimmy was in his thirties, so you certainly look younger. But the hair is the same.” He ruffled a hand through the messy black locks. “And your eyes.” Dean’s smile grew warmer. “Your eyes are exactly the same. That’s how I knew for sure it was you when I first found you.” Castiel smiled but was beginning to shiver in his damp clothes. Dean saw it and pulled Cas into a tight embrace. The former angel melted into the heat of the demon’s body.

“Thank you, Dean.” He sighed.

“Least I could do.” He smiled into the messy black hair. “You’ve had a pretty soggy childhood thanks to me.”

“I had an amazing childhood thanks to you.” Castiel smiled up at the taller man, who was just a little taller than he remembered. Mostly due to Archer being about two inches shorter than Jimmy Novak. 

“Someone needed to keep an eye on you.” Dean was rubbing his hands in comforting circles over Castiel’s back. “You were pretty hopeless as a human.” Castiel grinned into Dean’s chest and tightened his arms around the strong torso.

“I think I did alright this time around.” He said as he locked his eyes with Dean’s again.

“Well yeah, you had a guardian demon looking out for you.” Dean was leaned down slightly and Castiel was stretching up on his toes. Their faces were very close. 

“And that makes me the luckiest former angel that has ever been.” He spoke the words almost right against Dean’s lips. They finally moved that small centimeter closer and their lips connected. Castiel could just smell the scent of sulphur under the rain and for the first time with his own memories he welcomed the scent. To Angel of the Lord, Castiel, it meant danger. But to Archer, the boy with the Guardian Demon, it made him feel safe and loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this while procrastinating on my other story. As of right now I have no intentions of continuing it past this point. Comments, criticism and kudos are much appreciated.


End file.
